Scattered Lily Petals
by victorious1314
Summary: Snow and Charming have another daughter named Lily. She was born when Emma was twelve in FTL. Emma and Lily were sent through the wardrobe when Lily was born because of the Dark Curse and Emma had her memories erased. Emma left Lily five years after arriving in our world and Lily was left alone. Lily is broken when her family finds her after the curse is broken. Can they save her?
1. Chapter 1

**Scattered Lily Petals**

 **Chapter One**

 _AU:_ _Hello! I'm starting this new fanfiction, and yes I will still be continuing Saving the Savior. I've been really excited to write this story ever since the idea popped in my head :) I must warn whoever is reading this that there will be a lot of triggering content in this story. If you've read any of my other fanfictions you already know this but I can't stress enough how much I don't want to trigger or upset anyone. This one may be my most triggering story yet because I'm rating this M. Anyways I love you and I obviously do not own Once Upon a Time or the Characters. I also do not own the cover image, the only thing I do own are my OCs and my OFC in this story, Lily Swan. I really hope you guys enjoy it and if you do please please please leave a review, I always love reading them! Here is the official trigger warning_ _- Trigger Warning: Self-Harm, Rape, Sexual Abuse, Suicidal Elements, Mental Illness, Mentions of past Child Abuse, and Depression._

 _~ victorious_1314_

 **Lily's Point of View**

My head begins to ache as my toddler foster brother continues to scream and our "parents" do nothing to stop it. I swoop him up in my arms and balance him on my hip as I bounce him. He touches my neck and his chubby fingers find a particularly thick scar behind my ear. I flinch but allow him to continue for his curiosity has silenced his ear drum piercing wails. I walk into the dimly lit kitchen and catch a glimpse of my appearance in the dusty mirror. My limp brown hair frames my sunken in, almost skeletal features. A familiar scar goes from the corner of my right eye brow down past my eye and stops a centimeter from my nose. As a result of the past injury my effected eye is blind and looks like a blue-ish bowl of milk.

I grit my teeth and force the violent memories from my mind as I open the fridge and grab an applesauce for the child who now has his hand knotted in my hair roughly, William. I ignore the nagging pain in my scalp as he tugs harder and set him down in his baby chair that has been too small for him for months. He fusses from the tight squeeze but his face lights up when he sees his favorite treat in my hands. I ignore the yelling coming from the other room and start feeding William absentmindedly. I look at the clock and see the time is 7:00 PM. The sound of shattering glass is heard along with the increased volume of the screaming couple.

William ignores the noises and continues to eat the mush. I finish feeding him and take him to our shared room, away from the dangerous adults. After I change his diaper I put him in his footie pajamas and place him gently in the unsafe looking crib. I turn off the lights and grab my backpack so I can do my homework in the light of the hallway so I wont disturb the sleeping child. The homework is finished within twenty minutes. I grab my purse from my school bag and speed into the bathroom. After I pull out the first aid-kit I pull up my left sleeve and unwrap the fabric and gauze from the fifty or 60 small but deep cuts along with possibly hundreds of thick scars. I search the entire length of my forearm for a blank space to slice open but find none.

I tear off my shirt and find enough room for fifteen cuts on my left arm and ten on the other. I decide to save the left arm for another time and settle for five on my right upper arm. I open my purse, grab a small black bag, and pull out my dull razor. After cutting into my skin for what feels like hours I realize my blood is dripping to the floor. Panicking, I clean out my wounds and wrap them tightly with gauze and bandage them heavily. I ignore the endorphins, or blood loss, that threatens to make me pass out and scrub at the filthy tiled floor to rid of the crimson fluid that I've come to know so much.

I hear footsteps coming down the hallway and my hair stands on end. I throw my long-sleeved shirt on and feel tears begin to form. The door swings open and my drunk foster mother, Jude, sways in the doorway. I nod in her direction and avoid eye-contact as I attempt to walk past her into my bedroom. She grabs my shoulder and I look up at her with wide, frightened eyes.

"You know you're garbage, right?" Her words come out slurred but I understand her clearly enough. I simply nod again and push past her more forcefully. I thankfully manage to get to my room without her grabbing me again. I close the door softly as to not wake William and lay down on my small mattress against the opposite side of the wall. I inhale sharply at the recognizable agony that radiates from my back through my whole body as new pressure is introduced when I lay on down. The thick scars that penetrate deep into my back muscles leave my spine unaffected so I can't complain. At least I can walk with only minor amounts of pain.

The endorphins finally fully kick in and I am dragged into a hellish and restless sleep.

I wake up to the sound of arguing and roll my eyes in annoyance. William begins fussing right after I am woken and I run my hand through my tangled hair. I listen to the arguing and my heart starts beating rapidly in my chest from excitement when I realize I don't recognize the sound of the voice that is yelling the loudest. I sit up and bite back a groan of pain from the sudden movement and dash over on wobbly legs to William's crib. Child Services must be here to take us away. While this definitely isn't the worst home I've lived in over my sixteen years in foster care, I know that William still has a chance of having a normal childhood. People are still willing to adopt children his age. Even though I was a newborn when I was found in the woods. My sister with mysterious amnesia, Emma, demanded we can't be separated.

Five years later when she was seventeen she ran off and left me. I was too old to be adopted then, people like babies so they can easily imprint on them as their parents. William starts crying in my arms and I choose not to comfort him in an attempt to make our situation look worse to the adults who may take us away. I walk out to the living room and see a tall man who looks like he's in his twenties along with two women, one with blonde hair and one with black hair, who look the same age. All eyes land on me and I stare at them with my signature blank expression as William screams and bucks in my arms from being woken up while it's still dark out. I glance at the clock and see it's only 9:00 PM.

"Lily?" The woman with the blonde hair says quietly. I look at her and feel my heart drop and my throat tighten. Emma stands straight with a red faux leather jacket over a black tank top. Her golden hair still curls naturally like it did when we were young. I place the crying child down next to his bin of toys and wipe any emotion off of my face before turning to face her again.

"Lily, do you remember me? I left when you were young but-" My wicked foster mother cuts my sister off, "Don't bother, she hasn't spoken in years, hun. Trust me I've tried but she's a stubborn little bitch."

Emma and the other two people's eyes widen with shock at the first sentence and glare at her after the last. I briefly wonder who they are but my thoughts are interrupted by Emma, "It's me, Emma... Your sister. I'm here to take you with me. I have a home and I want you to come with me, I'll explain everything once we're out of here." She looks at my bored looking foster parents with malice.

I feel anger anger build inside me and know that I can't let her know. Even just the thought of speaking fills me with unfathomable anxiety. I look nervously at the blubbering toddler beside me and the tall man looks at me with understanding eyes and says, " _Everything_ will be taken care of, Lily."

I nod hesitantly and walk briskly to my bedroom and empty my school bag's contents and fill it with clothes and toiletries. I also grab the baby blanket that I've childishly kept with me all of these years. When I finish packing my things I find Emma talking in a low voice to the serious looking man in the corner and the dark haired woman playing peek-a-boo with William. My foster parents are having a hushed discussion in the kitchen and I head towards the door. Not allowing myself to look at William, whom I've cared for, for months. Emma rushes towards me as I open the door and force myself through it without daring to look back at the young child.

I wait outside of the door for the others to join me and when they do I let them lead the way. We step outside and walk towards an adorably small yellow bug car and I sit in the back with the dark haired woman. Emma begins driving and the tension in the car is so prominent you could cut it with a knife. We drive for a bit longer and the blond man turns on the radio. I fall asleep instantly and for the first time in years I dream of nothing.

I open my eyes and forget where I am for a briefly terrifying moment. The car goes over a pothole and my head slams painfully against the glass of the window. I sit up straight immediately and look around to see Emma still driving the car, the man looking solemnly out the window, and the dark haired woman staring at me intently. I meet her gaze with my functional eye and she looks away sheepishly. Even though I'm used to the terrified and curious glances I get from people everyday because of my ghost like complexion, my bony body, and my unseeing eye, I feel strange when this woman looks at me. Perhaps it is the fact that I have no idea how long she was looking at me, or it was the unmistakable expression of complete and utter grief she wore while staring at me.

I look out the window and see nothing but darkness. We drive on a small winding road past what I've discovered are dense forests and a sign on the left side of the road catches my eye and I can barely make out the word, "Storybrooke" through the thick blackness. I laugh internally at the pun and lean back against the head rest. Out of the corner of my eye I catch the woman looking at me again and don't even bother to stop her this time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Scattered Lily Petals**

 **Chapter Two**

AU: Hello again :) Thank you for all of the kind reviews on the last chapter! They definitely help encourage me to write new chapters :D I'm so glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter so I can't wait to give you this one :) Trigger Warning: Self-Harm, Rape, Sexual Abuse, Suicidal Elements, Mental Illness, Mentions of past Child Abuse, and Depression.

~ victorious_1314

Lily's Point of View

We drive through the quaint town for five more minutes until we reach our destination, an old brick apartment building. We park out front and the entire car is silent until Emma turns back to look at me. Her green eyes match mine... well, my left one. The tall man leaves the car first and the dark haired woman follows suit. Emma eventually breaks eye-contact and steps out as well. The man opens my door for me and I flinch away from his hand as he offers to help me step out. He pulls back hesitantly and I avoid looking at his expression.

We walk up two flights of stairs and Emma opens the apartment. The apartment has an old rustic look to it that intentionally looks run down and messy. I step in and drop my bag on a nearby white chair. My sister turns towards me with a nervous look on her face and exchanges glances with the two other people.

"L-Lily, would you like to sit down? We can explain everything," Emma stutters. I nod nonchalantly and lazily flop down on a forest green couch closest to my bag. Emma sits directly across from me and the man and woman place themselves next to me. The feeling of awkwardness creeps up my spine and I internally groan when all eyes land on me.

"I guess I should start with giving you this..." Emma hands me a large book with the words, 'Once Upon a Time' written elegantly on it.

I sit with my legs crossed and my eyes darting back and forth between the adults. I wait for one of them to burst out laughing and tell me that they are just screwing with me. Instead they all look at me with grave expressions. The dark haired woman whom I now know is Snow White, my mother, smiles at me tiredly. Prince Charming, my father grins as well but his eyes still hold sadness.

Emma looks down at the ground solemnly and says, "I was twelve when we were put into the wardrobe, my memories were just erased so we could live a life together. The dark curse came on the day of your birth, Lily."

I glare at her as fiercely as I can manage and my thoughts become scrambled in my brain. My supposed, "mother" reaches for my hand in what I guess is a comforting manner but I jerk away from her touch.

"We don't expect you to believe us immediately. We can give you proof." Charming... or David, says reassuringly. I nod sarcastically as my logical side takes over my reason. David sighs and gets up to presumably get something from the other room that will somehow change my mind. I look down at my feet and catch a glimpse of wetness on the sleeve over my forearm. One of my scabs must have split and bled through the gauze. Terror makes my breathing become shallow and a lump form in my throat.

I put my thumb in between my middle and ring finger and make a fist. I shake it urgently at the women and they look at me strangely. I roll my eyes and point with my good arm towards a dark hallway to my right. Snow's face lights up with understanding, "You have to use the restroom?"

I shake my head in confirmation and Emma says, "It's right down that hall, the second door on the left."

I attempt a smile but it comes out more like a grimace and launch my exhausted body down the narrow hallway. I all but rip off the door to the bathroom in my hurry as I feel the dampness on my sleeve spreading. I flick on the light and my breath catches once I see my disheveled state reflected back at me. My hair is greasy and limp and my eyes have dark circles around them that almost make me look like a panda from my smeared makeup.

I pull up my sleeve and in my haste I tear up the rest of the gauze along with it. A few more scabs come off and more blood begins to rise from my mutilated flesh. I mentally curse and grab tissues. I wrap my wounds as tightly as I can without tearing the thin paper. I run the water so the people in the living room know I haven't jumped out the window or something. The bleeding ceases after a minute and I bind the bandages around my arm tightly again. I flush the bloody tissues down the toilet and turn on the faucet. I roughly scrub the leftover makeup from my eyes and stare at my reflection.

My jaw line matches that of the woman who claims to be Snow White and my nose is a crossbreed between David's and hers as well. My skin is paler without the makeup, the hollows of my eyes appear darker, and the scar over my eye stands out more and is an angry pink. I run my hand through my tangled brown hair and try to take deep breaths as my mind tries to process all of the new information that has been given to me by the people in the living room. I adjust my clothes and walk out of the blue bathroom.

On the green couch Mary Margret, David, and Emma look towards me with matching concerned expressions. I ignore their stares and continue to walk by them swiftly. My step falters when I see the large sword resting in Charming's lap. He smiles sheepishly at me and I sit back down while giving him a wary glance.

"This is my sword from the Enchanted Forest. I know this isn't the best proof, but it's all I can offer you now... I know this all seems unbelievable to you, but I just need you to know that your mother and I love you and we're sorry for everything we've put you through," David pauses and looks down at his feet, "We sent you through the wardrobe with Emma so you two wouldn't be separated, we had no idea that you would be left alone."

Emma makes a small choking noise and says, "I am so sorry, Lily. If I had my memories from home I would have never left your side. I know it must seem impossible to even consider forgiving me, but please, understand that I will never give up trying to make it up to you. I love you."

I furrow my brows at her sincerity and find myself believing what I'm being told. What they are telling me is preposterous but I secretly want to believe that I'm not from this world, I'm a princess, my parents are Snow White and Prince Charming, my sister still loves me, and we're all going to be a family now.

I tangle my fingers together and try to use my rational mind to put an end to this madness but I find myself disregarding everything it says. I know I can never be a princess because of what has happened to me, what I've done, but having a family to protect me from the bad luck that plagues me doesn't seem like such a bad idea. Perhaps I could find someone to translate my sign language to them and ask my newly found family about the year that is missing from my memory when I was seven. Until now I thought that something awful happened to me and my mind is blocking it from me so I will not loose whatever shred of sanity I have left. Now I can only hope that it has something to do with the "Dark Curse".

I look up at my supposed family. Emma stares at my blind eye and asks the question that I always dread, "What happened?"

I feel grateful that I can't answer her but my heart tightens when she pulls a pen and a note pad out of the pocket of her red jacket. Emma hands them to me and her eyes meet mine fiercely. I glance at my acclaimed biological mother and father with the most helpless expression I can manage. They shake their heads at my obvious plead and David says determined, "We can handle it. We're here for you."

I look at the note pad and red pen in Emma's outstretched hand and take it sways nervously. My breath catches in my throat as I feel all of their eyes on me and I uncap the pen with shaking hands. Memories flood through my mind of my sadistic foster father when I was twelve on that fateful night. I tried my best to please the man, I hid the bruises well, I lied through my teeth, and kept quiet on the nights he would visit my bedroom. Yet when the dish slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor he stumbled into the kitchen, swaying from his nightly drinking routine. He slurred something I couldn't understand and shouted, calling me a, 'dumb bitch' and a 'good for nothing whore.'

I remember him moving surprisingly quickly for an intoxicated man and grabbing a shard of glass. I didn't even have time to register what he was doing before I was on the floor and covering my eye with both of my hands tightly. The hot blood spilled in between my fingers and I couldn't muster enough energy to scream. Any noise I tried to make ended up making a gurgling sound in my throat. A puddle of blood formed on the floor below where I was hunched over.

The sound of the door getting kicked down did not go unheard in my hysterical state. I finally was able to scream, it came out bloodcurdling and agonized. At the time I had no idea that scream would be the last noise I ever made in front of anybody. Somebody picked up my body and I heard him call out for somebody to call an ambulance. I saw through my intact eye that he was a police officer. I lost consciousness then.

Waking up in the hospital was terrifying. Nurse's kept looking at me with sickeningly pitiful gazes. Doctor's made comments on how my wound was healing well. The worst part of it all was when the social worker would come into my hospital bedroom and try to get me to speak. She thought at first that I was just being stubborn but she soon discovered, along with a psychologist, that I was too traumatized to speak and that I may never do so again.

My foster father, Richard, admitted to all of his crimes and was sentenced to fifty years in prison.

I now look down at the pad of paper and write in my chicken scratch hand writing:

I was in a car accident.

I hear Snow gasp and I hand the notebook to Emma. She sighs sadly and hands it to David who holds his wife's hand tightly. Emma is the one who finally speaks, "I'm so sorry that happened to you, Lily. We should have been there for you.

I nod and make a big show out of yawning. David stands up and grabs my bag beside me, "I'll show you to your room, ok? Emma volunteered to sleep on the couch and give you her bed upstairs."

I smile uneasily and follow him up the small, black, winding staircase to a small white room. The walls are angled in the shape of the roof and a small wooden bed sits across from a dresser with a mirror. Charming sets down my bags and places his hand on my shoulder. I unintentionally flinch at the unexpected contact but he doesn't pull away.

He instead looks at me with saddened eyes and says in a low voice that I can almost not decipher, "When you're ready to talk about what really happened, I'll always be around to talk."

My eyes widen and he smiles sheepishly, "Emma and Snow may not have noticed but you have the same face your mother when you aren't telling the truth." David gives my shoulder one last squeeze and leaves me in the room, by myself. I push off my shoes and plop myself down on the squishy bed. I underestimated this man's ability to read his own children. I smile unintentionally at the thought of me actually being someone's daughter.

I fall alseep in a cheery mood which is spoiled when I am greeted by nightmares of evil queens and broken dishes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Scattered Lily Petals**

 **Chapter Three**

 _AU: Hello Readers! So sorry I haven't been updating my stories very consistently :( I love getting reviews from you guys though, they help encourage me to write more. I've been going through a bit of a writers block and that has been preventing me from updating as often as I would like to. :( Anyways, here is the official trigger warning for this series -_ _Trigger Warning: Self-Harm, Rape, Sexual Abuse, Suicidal Elements, Mental Illness, Mentions of past Child Abuse, and Depression._

 _~ victorious_1314_

Lily's Point of View

I shield my eye from the sunlight that streams through the window onto my face. There is a skylight window directly above my bed that I hadn't noticed last night. I remember where I am suddenly and sit up so quickly that the world seems to sway. Memories of the previous night fill my mind and my brain begins to throb.

A quiet knock comes from the bedroom door. The woman who claims to me my mother steps in with a nervous smile plastered onto her face.

"I set up the shower for you downstairs. You can come and meet some people in the town today if you think you're ready!" She chirps. I self-consciously look down at my greasy dark brown hair that reaches just below my bust when brushed out. I nod and force a smile. When she leaves I dig through my bag on the floor and stuff my oversized purse with a change of clothes, my deodorant, and my toothbrush.

I descend the winding staircase and am hit with the overpowering smell of bacon. My newly found mother pushes strips of bacon around in a pan with a plastic spatula. She doesn't notice me and I breathe a sigh of relief as I head towards the bathroom.

"Lily, did you sleep well?" I hear Emma's voice behind me and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I turn to face her and nod. She lets out a contented sigh, "I'm so glad you're with us now. Things are going to be better from here on out. After you clean yourself up we can go over to Granny's Diner and you can meet some people."

By people do you mean fairytale characters? I ask mentally. Instead I nod again and walk into the bathroom. I struggle with turning on the shower for a few minutes but manage to get it to a warm enough temperature. I peel the clothes off of my filthy body and discard them onto the floor. Through the mirror I stare at my body and cringe at what I see.

I usually avoid looking at my body but sometimes I can't help myself. It's like a bad car accident that you see when you drive by that you can't seem to look away from. My scars penetrate deep into my flesh, some of them are pink and rise from the surface while others are white and create dents in my body. The funny thing is, none of these scars are from my razors, they were all inflicted upon me by my foster parents over the years. The pain I cause myself is simply a way for me to feel in control of my body again. Before I turned to the razors other people controlled the sensations I felt. Now I control my pain, my sanity, and my flesh.

I unwrap the surgical bandages that cover my arms and stuff them into the bottom of my purse. I step into the stream and watch the water below me turn pinkish from the dried blood that washes off from my body.

After I am scrubbed completely clean I carefully dry myself off so I won't tear any of the wounds on my arms open so I don't have to worry about spontaneously bleeding during the day. I put on a grey sweater and loose fitting jeans before brushing my tangled hair until a comb can easily glide through the strands. I put on some makeup to cover my scar as much as I can, some eyeliner, and a light amount of blush to make myself look a little less undead.

I finish cleaning myself up and check my arms for bleeding one last time before leaving the steamy bathroom. I sit down at the table next to Emma and realize just how hungry I am when I look down at the plate in front of me. After I take my fill in eggs, toast, and bacon I clean my mouth off with my sleeve.

"We'll head over to Granny's around lunch time, okay?" David suddenly asks. I smile nervously and bite my fingernails. I take my dish to the sink and rinse it off under warm water. I sense everyone's eyes glued to me and a shiver runs down my spine. The deeply scarred tissue on my back cramps up and I nearly drop the plate. Flashes of images from the night when my foster father cut me open fill my mind before I force myself to remain grounded. I will not break down in front of them.

The next several hours are filled with silence and awkwardness. I watch a boring show on the TV with Emma while Mary Margret and David talk in the kitchen. If it wasn't for their hushed, serious tones and the obvious tension throughout the apartment I could almost pretend that we are a normal family. Scratch that. I'm not even completely sold that we are even a family. The facts don't add up. Why do "Prince Charming" and "Snow White" look the same age as Emma? This whole "Dark Curse" thing doesn't make the least bit sense to me. When they explained it to me last night and I found myself believing them, I was half asleep.

The sword that David showed me proved nothing. For now I'm just going to go along with this for as long as I can and be grateful that they are giving me a home for awhile.

"Alright, are you guys hungry?" 'Snow White' asks politely. I frown and look at the clock above the screen, it's noon. The time practically flew by. I give a curt nod and we put on our shoes. We drive in the yellow bug from the night before and within five minutes we arrive at a quaint looking diner named, Granny's. I bite my nails again as we approach the doors and see it's busy inside. A small bell chimes as David holds the door open for us and we step inside. The previously buzzing eatery becomes eerily silent as all eyes land on us.

A boy, who appears about the age of ten or eleven, rushes to greet us. "Mom!" he exclaims merrily. He embraces Emma and she ruffles his hair, seeming slightly out of place. He smiles up Mary Margret and David who are chatting with an older looking woman with white hair as if they are old friends. The boy's brown eyes eventually land on me, "Hello," he says, "My name is Henry, I'm your nephew."

Shock overwhelms my being and I look at Emma with confusion. "I told you last night that my son was the one who brought me to Storybrooke in the first place. Don't you remember? He was adopted by Regina." She hastily replies.

Now that she mentions it, I do remember her telling me that. I suppose the amount of information that was given to me was so great that my mind is struggling to make sense of it all. Emma smiles, "It's OK, I know it's really confusing at first."

I look down and try to ignore the loud noises in the diner that threaten to give me a migraine.

"Your Majesties, you can sit here!" A grouchy looking man in a group of short men says. My head spins. Is the whole town in on this? Or perhaps, is this the truth? Mary Margret smiles at the man and says, "Lily, this is Grumpy, Sneezy, Dopey, Sleepy, Doc, Happy, and Bashful." She points to each dwarf as she says their name and my eyes widen in shock. I manage a half smile and they each take turns bowing in front of me.

Doc takes my shaking hand in his and says in a grandfatherly voice, "You don't remember me but I was there when you were born. It is wonderful to finally meet you Princess Lily." His eyes wander a bit on my scar but he nonetheless grins and moves along with the others in is group. A pain in my back makes me grimace and I all but run to an open chair that was previously occupied by Sleepy.

I remember a time when I was six and I was staying with a family that had a biological daughter as well as foster children. I remember playing with the dog on the floor and my foster father hugging and calling his real daughter his 'Princess'. I'd never been called that before and found myself consumed with jealousy. Lets just say I was taken by a social worker the next day because I developed a sudden fascination with cutting hair that night as my 'sister' slept.

I smile sadly at the memory as I am dragged back into reality by Henry, who has pulled up a chair from another table to join us.

"So Lily, where have you been all this time?" Henry asks. I sign to him that I don't speak but he still looks confused. Snow is the one who speaks up and says, "She doesn't speak, honey."

His eyes widen until they are as big as dinner plates and looks back in forth between me and his grandmother. His focus finally lands on me, "Are you under a curse? Like the one from The Little Mermaid?" I smile at him patiently and shake my head. David steps in, "She isn't under any curse. Some people just don't talk." Charming then looks at me with a peculiar expression, as if he doesn't even believe what he just said.

Henry looks unsatisfied but remains silent after he is shot a look that I didn't catch from Emma. A man who looks about Emma's age walks in with an African-American woman by his side.

"Dad, we're over here!" Henry says happily.

They walk over to us and Emma stares down at her hands as if they are suddenly the most interesting things in the world. Snow smiles at who Henry's father and says, "Neal, this is my daughter Lily. Lily, this is Henry's father Neal." I wave but he reaches out to shake my hand. I hesitantly place my hand in his, "Hello, it's nice to meet you," he says, "Emma has told me a lot about you."

I grin half-heartedly at him, trying to keep my discomfort at the thought of people talking about me unknown to the people around me.

Neal gestures towards the woman beside him, "This is my fiancee, Tamara." I meet the woman's eyes and see something within them that I don't like. I can't quite determine what it is but I have to fight down the urge to cower under her gaze. I look around the old fashioned styled diner and see more people staring at my family and I intently. If I can even call them my family.

Over the next agonizing hour I had to meet and greet at least thirty people. At least half of them questioned why I don't speak and practically all of them wouldn't stop staring at my eye. I crack my knuckles and feel agitation rise within me. Why are we in a diner if we aren't even going to eat anything? Being a princess isn't all it's cracked up to be so far.

An older man with a cane walks through the door. I hear Neal inhale sharply and shift in his seat. The man has a mysterious glint in his eye and I can only assume he is Rumpelstiltskin. He limps to our table and confusion is evident on his features when he seems to notice my eye. I sigh internally and feel like flipping the table. This day is exhausting and humiliating. He seems to shake off his puzzlement and says with a Scottish accent, "Hello Dearie, you must be Lily." I nod and he continues, "I'm Rumpelstiltskin but you can call me Mr.. Gold."

An odd look crosses his face as he waits for me to respond somehow but Henry is the one to cut in this time, "She doesn't talk, Grandpa."

I raise my eyebrows at that and sneak a look at Neal who appears to be avoiding his father's eyes. I return my attention to Mr.. Gold and smile apologetically.

We finally order food after another godforsaken hour and finish eating before the sun sets on this cold autumn day. We bid everyone farewell and the thought of going to sleep fills me with joy. Alas, before we can open the door to leave a woman with short dark hair, burgundy red lipstick, and a black business suit comes in. I would have ripped my hair out in frustration if I wasn't too tired to lift my arms up to do so. Tension forms around us and she reaches out for Henry's hand which he takes eventually. I realize then that this must be Regina.

I'm suddenly wide awake with red hot anger pumping through my veins. This is the woman who separated my family, who ruined my life, and who is now walking freely and allowed to live out her life the way she chooses. A sensation I've never felt fills my being and I begin to see red. A feral growl, not unlike one you would hear at the zoo from a big cat, tears from my throat and everybody's eyes look to me instantly. Shock is written on everyone's features and anxiety makes my heart squeeze and my throat close. I haven't made a noise in front of anyone for years. I even manage to yawn, cough, and sneeze so quietly that it's barely detectable.

Breathing becomes difficult and everything begins move in slow motion. I hear what I can only describe as white noise in my ears and my field of vision is framed in black. I can see everyone's mouths moving but I can hear nothing but static. My heart seems like it's going to explode and I feel like I'm floating.

The next thing I know I'm falling to the ground and everything goes dark.


End file.
